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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573211">How It Could Have Gone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/charles_the_rocknroller/pseuds/charles_the_rocknroller'>charles_the_rocknroller</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, OH though it may not seem like it I am in fact still working on this, au where champmathieu died, chapters are short because I find that easier to write and read, dont hate me, its been forever I guess but... it’s not dead, jondrette being exactly who you think he is, so Jean didn’t have to run, the “major character death” is just fantine, this is my first actual fic, will add character tags as needed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:00:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/charles_the_rocknroller/pseuds/charles_the_rocknroller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Champmathieu died when he should’ve been arrested. Somebody still identified him as Jean Valjean. Javert, in all of his self hatred, still did his little “I deserve to be punished” spill to the real Valjean. This is what could have happened in Montrieul-sur-Mer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Javert/Jean Valjean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Champmathieu Affair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yeah, you’ll recognise some of this dialogue from the brick. I like to steal words. Makes things seem a bit more canon, I think.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Javert had been so certain that M. le Maire was Jean Valjean. Champathieu, who the law recognised as Valjean claimed to be, had been killed in the scuffle that should have only put him in cuffs. Resisting an arrest from an aggravated cop ends that way sometimes. But since the superiors wouldn’t budge on the man’s identity, Javert had to confront M. Madeleine about his suspicions.</p><p>Javert assembled his thoughts as he walked through the streets of Montreiul-sur-Mer towards the <em> mairie</em>. It was an honourable thing, what Valjean had done for the town. Crime rates had dropped, people were getting paid more, the town was successful. </p><p>However, Valjean was a criminal. A thief with good motives is still a thief. And that boy Petit-Gervais was robbed, though it didn’t make sense. Whatever Bishop Myriel had done was suspicious, too, but the church does not make mistakes.</p><p>Javert had heard that the mayor called for every chimney sweep passing through town (people like to gossip that he likes little boys, which was an outright lie), and it clicked in Javert’s head that he must wish to pay the child back. Was the robbery a mistake? Misunderstanding? It just didn’t make sense for a man who had just been redeemed by God to rob a child. The Fantine ordeal was too much, though. Valjean was right- the police should have investigated further. Although she was a prostitute, the assaulter should have been punished, too.</p><p>Javert was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realise he had passed the town hall. Turning around, he decided that he would apologise to Valjean and allude to his true identity in hopes that the truth would come out. Unlikely, since Valjean was a criminal. Criminals cannot change. There must be some catch as to why he was such a good person. Nobody gave away that much to people, no one was so kind as to help the working class, no person could care so much for people. But Valjean did, if Javert was correct in his assumption, and he was hardly ever wrong. </p><p>If he was wrong, though, Javert had overstepped his bounds. Disrespected a man of authority. It was all a mistake; he should have never questioned people higher than him. Javert began beating himself up over his doubts. After all, his fellow officers ridiculed his fixation on the mayor. How could a felon have become a man of repute? Javert knew he <em> must </em>be wrong, and that made him just as bad as the criminals he put away.</p><p>Yes, this was all foolish. Javert decided he should apologise and be punished. That is what he deserved, after all. </p><p>Javert could see the mayor through the glass; he looked troubled as he did paperwork. Javert stood there a moment, watching, before knocking on the door.</p><p>“Come in!” a voice from inside called, and so Javert did. Standing rigidly as always, he waited for Valjean to look up.</p><p>“Ah, good evening, inspector,” Madeleine greeted, standing up. He didn’t tense at Javert’s presence as most people did, but there was something else in his eyes that the inspector tried his best to place but could not. </p><p>“Good evening, Monsieur le Maire. I hope I am not bothering you.” Javert vaguely gestured towards the discarded papers.</p><p>“Nonsense. I needed a break, and you are always welcome to talk with me. What’s troubling you?” Javert had no idea he looked troubled, and he decided to think about Valjean’s wording of that sentence later.</p><p>“I wish to apologise for my behaviour a few days ago. You were correct, we should have investigated further in the matter of Fantine’s arrest.” He bowed slightly.</p><p>Valjean smiled weakly. “You were only doing your job, monsieur. I do not blame you, though I cannot speak for Fantine.”</p><p>Javert winced. “That is not all. A culpable act has been committed.”</p><p>“What act?”</p><p>"An inferior agent of the authorities has failed in respect towards a magistrate. I have come to bring the fact to your knowledge, as it is my duty to do."</p><p>"Who is the agent?" Valjean asked.</p><p>"I am," said Javert.</p><p>"You are?"</p><p>"I am."</p><p>"And who is the magistrate who should be offended by this?"</p><p>"You, Monsieur. I ask you to recommend that I be dismissed. You may say I could resign, but that would be honourable. I have failed in my duty; I must be turned out.”</p><p>“And why would I do that?” Valjean asked. “What nonsense is this? What is the meaning of this? What have you done? What are your wrongs with regard to me?”</p><p>“I was upset by our argument that night. I denounced you,” Javert answered.</p><p>“You denounced me?”</p><p>“To the Prefecture of Police in Paris.” </p><p>Valjean laughed. “As a mayor who had upset the function of the police?”</p><p>“As an ex-convict. You see, you remind me very much of a man who broke his parole long ago.”</p><p>That’s when Jean tensed, but Javert continued on, looking down almost shamefully. </p><p>“Similarities in your facial structure, your extreme strength, the inquiries at the Faverolles, your limp. All trifles, and nevertheless I suspected you of being a man called-,” Javert looked up towards the mayor with a final hope of seeing recognition in his eyes- “<em> Jean Valjean </em>.”</p><p>“What name did you say?”</p><p>“Jean Valjean. He was a convict I met, oh, twenty years ago when I was a prison-warder at Toulon. After his release, he committed a robbery at a church and then of a small boy on a public highway. Efforts were made to rearrest him, but he managed to get away. No trace of him for eight years. Anyway, that is what I did. In my resentment I denounced you to the Paris Prefecture.”</p><p>Casually as he could, Valjean asked, “And what did they say?”</p><p>“They said I was mad.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And they were right.”</p><p>“I’m glad you realize it.” Only a relieved sigh from the mayor gave any indication of knowledge.</p><p>“They must be right. I have been proven wrong since.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“The police caught the convict a week ago.”</p><p>“Truly?” This conversation was full of ups and downs for Jean, and now he was back down.</p><p>“Truly.” Javert relayed the facts he had repeated to himself so many times: How Jean may become Champ, the robbery, all of Champmathieus' known story, and how it tied into Jean Valjean’s life. “He was denying everything, which killed him during the arrest, sadly, but his body was positively identified by a fellow chain mate.”</p><p>A pause, then: “He was caught. That’s good, I suppose.” The mayor was pale. “You say he denied everything. Are they sure it is this Valjean?</p><p>“I myself did not get to see the body, but at least two witnesses have identified him.”</p><p>“Ah.” </p><p>There was silence for a moment, then Javert directed them back to the topic.</p><p>“Forgive me, Monsieur le maire, but I have to remind you of something.”</p><p>“Of what?”</p><p>“That I must be dismissed from the service.”</p><p>“I will do no such thing,” Valjean sighed, sitting back down. “Javert, you are an honourable man and I respect you highly. You’re exaggerating your offence, and it is a matter that only affects me. You deserve to go up in the world, not down. I want you to stay in your present post.”</p><p>Javert was incredulous. Surely, if this was Jean Valjean, he would want to get far away from Javert. He began to rant, stating his own line of thought.</p><p>“Monsieur, I cannot agree with you. The way I see it is I am not exaggerating anything. The fact I suspected you is not important, as it is my business to be suspicious. But you, monsieur, are a man of repute, a mayor, a magistrate! And in a fit of anger I tried to get revenge. I denounced you as an ex-convict. That is very serious. It is hypocritical that I offended authority, as I myself am a representative of authority. If one of my subordinates had done this, I would have declared him unworthy of the service and dismissed him.” </p><p>Javert had finally convinced himself that he was wrong with his accusation when the mayor stood up. “Wait, Monsieur le Maire, one more thing. I have been harsh to everyone my whole life. That is how I am. Now, if I am not harsh to myself in the same manner, all of the justice I have done would become injustice. I should not spare myself more than others. Why, I should be a blackguard! Anyone who called me so would be right. M’sieur le Maire, I do not wish for you to treat me kindly, for your kindness angers me enough when directed towards others. That kindness that upholds a woman of the streets against a citizen, pits the police agent against the mayor, the man who is down against the man who is up in the world, is what I call false kindness. It disorganizes society. God knows that it is easy to be kind, but it is difficult to be just! If you had been what I thought you were, I would not have been kind to you, no, not I! M’sieur le Maire, I must treat myself as I would any other man. Whenever I have subdued evildoers, or proceeded with vigor against rascals, I have said to myself, ‘If you are ever to slip up, you know what to expect!’ And now I have slipped and committed an offence. It is right that I should be dismissed and broken. My hands still work well, I can work in the fields, till the soil, it makes no difference to me. Monsieur, I need to be made an example of! I simply require the discharge of Inspector Javert. I deserve nothing else.” His voice had a strange duality of a man who was completely certain of himself and yet anxious and despairing. </p><p>Valjean stood behind his desk a moment, taking in everything Javert said. He didn’t like the inspector’s logic. There is no reason for the best officer to be treated as a criminal for one little thing. Valjean did not wish for Javert to be punished, although the whole matter did allow Valjean to finally be free of his past. </p><p>“We shall see,” is all Valjean said to Javert, and he offered a hand. </p><p>That’s where Javert’s almost-calmness broke; he recoiled and wildly said, “Excuse me, Monsieur le maire, but I cannot. A mayor does not offer his hand to a police spy.” Then, to himself, he murmured something to confirm that he was now a police spy, since he had misused his office. Valjean dropped his hand. </p><p>A line of a song drifted through Javert’s head. He didn’t think about the melody of them or their strange appearance in his head, only that the words were right. </p><p>
  <em> “Wise men say ‘Only fools rush in...’” </em>
</p><p>He knew he was a fool. He had rushed his accusation and ruined everything. Bowing, Javert turned towards the door, but turned around for one moment. His eyes were still downcast. </p><p>“Upon your wishes, I shall continue to serve until I have been replaced. Good day, monsieur,” he said, leaving Valjean to contemplate the honesty of Javert while listening to the steady fall of footsteps grow quieter and quieter. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tempest in a Skull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short, sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jean Valjean wasn’t sure what to make of the mess. He felt awful for the man who died as Jean Valjean. He knew that it was bad, but he felt relieved that he no longer had to hide from the law. But if Javert ever found out…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert seemed like he was still slightly suspicious. What would Valjean do if Javert ever found out? What price would Valjean have to pay for staying in Montreuil-sur-Mer as M. Madeleine? Should he stay or should he go?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valjean mulled over all of this as he left the </span>
  <em>
    <span>marie </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the hospital where Fantine was. The poor woman; she shouldn’t have to go through all of this. Why wouldn’t the innkeepers just send Cosette to them? Fantine didn’t have much longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was so much to think about! Valjean wanted to do what was right. He wanted to help the town more. He wanted to help Fantine and her daughter. Those were good things to do. Is the guilt of letting the dead Champmathieu man take the blame worth it? Valjean sincerely hoped it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” A melody drifted through the mayor’s head, and he contemplated the words. Lying was wrong. If he spoke up, he’d be condemned. Yet if he stayed silent, he was damned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What harm will come to anyone for this case of mistaken identity? Nothing too bad, until judgement day. God will know that Champmathieu did not steal the bread or rob the child. He will not be harmed in any way now that he is dead. But will Valjean be punished for continuing this lie? All of the good that will come of this lie will even things out. It is wrong to be dishonest, and though the Bishop said to be an honest man, that was aimed more towards thievery. That’s what Valjean hoped, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By staying in Montreuil-sur-Mer as the mayor, Valjean decided, he would do good. He would help people. It felt good to help. Thank God for Javert’s honesty. Now Valjean did not have to constantly worry as much. But, the inspector was probably still suspicious. At least M. Madeleine was an Authority.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching the hospital, Jean came to the smart decision of not coming forth. And so it shall be. Now, Fantine needed him. The doctor told him that if she had any family, they better come see her soon. It wouldn’t be much longer for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was awake, as it was almost 3 o’clock. “Hello, Monsieur!” Fantine sat bolt upright as he approached her bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Fantine. How are you feeling today?” Valjean gave her his full attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She began fluttering her hands around herself. “I am feeling much better, thank you!” She didn’t look much better. Fantine’s hair wasn’t growing back out as it should, and she still looked quite dead, with little colour to her face. “Any word about Cosette?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valjean sighed. “Nothing yet. But I came by today to let you know that I will be retrieving her myself, as the innkeepers are unable to send her. I will be back soon, as I will leave for Montfermeil tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Vajean and Fantine were shocked by what he said. When did Jean decide to do that? It had crossed his mind, but he planned on sending a courier or somebody else. Fantine was overjoyed, however. She took a big breath and began to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, Père Madeleine? You’d do that? Oh, thank you, thank you so much,” she began. “I miss my Cosette very much, do you know what it’s like to be away from your child for so long? You are a saint, monsieur!” she continued on as Valjean listened, only half there now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Thénardiers wouldn’t give Cosette up easily, that much Jean could tell by the letters. He had already sent much more money than needed, even if the child was dreadfully sick. Perhaps they would take him seriously if Jean said he was Cosette’s grandfather, but that wasn’t very convincing, given the circumstances. How would he get them to give her up without a fight?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would have to rent a horse and cart. Montfermeil’s nearly 44 leagues from Montreuil-sur-Mer. That’s five days, round trip, if he goes about 15 a day. No doubt monsieur Scaufflaire had a good horse he could loan. Five days wouldn’t be too long. Fantine surely had at least a week, according to the doctor. She gained some colour to her face after he told her the news. She seemed to improve within the hour he stayed. And he stayed for that long, until she fell asleep, a smile on her face. He kissed her forehead and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valjean’s mind wandered again as he walked down the street. Inspector Javert seemed to be quite the depressing fellow. Did he really think that much of the law that his “mistake” was very near a death sentence? He must’ve had quite a horrible childhood. Nobody ever spoke good words about Javert. He didn’t appear to have a social life. Valjean pitied him. Perhaps Valjean could help Javert, if Javert would allow it. They could help each other. Valjean wanted to get to know the inspector. There was something that drew the mayor to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a silly thought, wishing to be friendly with stoic Javert! Who knows, though? Valjean arrived at the business of M. Scaufflaire. There, he arranged for a horse and cabriolet to be rented for a week. He paid and the stable boy showed him out to the barn and the horse he was to have dropped off in the morning. The horse was well built, and Jean felt he got his money’s worth. Turning around, he caught the eye of a man at another stall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well! Hello, inspector! Fancy meeting you here,” Valjean chuckled. Javert scowled slightly and straightened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Javert asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valjean took his chance to make conversation. “Renting a horse. I plan on retrieving Fantine’s daughter from Montfermeil tomorrow. And yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the mention of Fantine, Javert stiffened. “I keep my horse here. I do not use him much around town.” A pause. “Do you plan on keeping the child yourself? I do not believe that the mother will be around much longer, if I may say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. Her child will live within my care,” Valjean answered, watching the stable boy leave. “Cosette is hardly five years old, and I don’t believe that an orphanage or the streets is a good place for her to be. I have a feeling the innkeepers will throw her out as soon as they stop getting payments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert nodded. “I can relate to her situation. Maybe she will be able to see her mother.” Valjean was shocked at Javert’s openness. He knew very little about Javert’s past. Valjean paused for a moment, thinking, when Javert bowed and mumbled a goodbye, clearly embarrassed by what he figured was a private confession. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind if I walk with you?” Valjean asked. It was a harmless question, but Javert jumped a little at the proposition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose not,” Javert said, though he told himself that it was best to be alone. He saw ‘Madeleine’ smile, though, and for a fleeting moment he wanted that smile to never go away. Then they were walking side by side on the street in almost-comfortable silence. Javert, having little to no experience in small talk, stayed quiet until Valjean spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you do not mind, Inspector, I would like to ask a small favour of you. Since I will be gone, I would like someone to keep the town in order. Now, I know that your police force is good at their job, but I mean that I fear things getting worse. Lately, there have been workers laid off. I am trying to fix that. But I have never left the town for very long, and I don’t know how things will go. I am normally around to give alms and such, make sure that the bead factory is working smoothly and most of the town is getting along. I trust you, though.” He really wasn’t too worried about crime or anything falling apart, but Jean wanted Javert to trust him. This was like a trust exercise to Jean. It was a way for them to depend on each other. There was no real promise to keep; Javert would have done his best and more to stop all crime and criminals in Montreuil-sur-Mer. But Valjean continued, adding his crucial fear. “Fantine is what I worry about most. The doctor does not give her a week more, and I have come to terms with that, as sad as it may be. But if she is to pass while I am gone, I would like for her to have a real funeral. I can pay you for every expense as soon as I get back, if that happens to be the case.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert was silent. He still didn’t trust Madeleine. But this could be a way to get closer to the mayor, a way to understand why he does what he does, and if he is hiding anything. And Madeleine truly seemed to care about the prostitute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be more alert for the next week. I do not know what I can do for Fantine, but,” Javert sighed, “I will check in every few days, and I suppose I have enough money to spare for a funeral, if need be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Javert. I owe you.” Valjean smiled at him, but Javert scowled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You owe me nothing. It is the other way around, monsieur.” They continued walking, both quiet. Again, it was Valjean who said something. It was just small talk now. Valjean wanted to ask how Javert related to Cosette but he thought it was too personal. Instead asked how work was going, and if he liked it in M-sur-M, and if he was having any trouble with criminals. Though Javert wasn’t used to casual conversation, he answered and did not completely hate the company. It made the walk back to his house shorter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are off duty, then?” Valjean asked as they arrived at the inspector’s apartment. Valjean could tell it was small and probably not good enough to really be liveable in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Javert answered, aware that Valjean now knew where he lived and one of the times he would be home. It was wrong to be wary of the mayor, Javert thought to himself, but he still saw him as Jean Valjean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shall see you in a few days, then, Inspector.” Valjean bowed shortly, Javert tipped his hat, and they went their separate ways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Javert went inside to contemplate his day and his promise to the mayor, Valjean walked back to his house to let Sister Simplice know where he would be and finish making preparations for the journey. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. M. Madeleine in Mourning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I use Madeleine and Valjean interchangeably, I hope that is not a problem.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Five days later, Javert was preparing a funeral. He pitied Cosette and hoped Valjean didn’t tell her she would get to see Fantine. The sisters at the convent were preparing her for burial and Javert was picking out a coffin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t any fun. He wasn’t picking it out, per se, since the undertaker didn’t have much to choose from. Javert found himself wondering if Madeleine would approve, but he buried the thought almost as soon as it appeared. A sturdy pine box would be fine. A casket seemed too fancy, and there were a couple worse coffins for Fantine to sleep eternally in. There was nice cushioning in it, but what did it matter? She was dead, in pain no longer. To think, it was partially Javert’s fault. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A conflict arose in Javert, one of many that recently began to bombard him. Did Fantine deserve this? He called her horrible things at first, completely disrespected what he saw as someone lesser-than-human. But he did check on her while Valjean was gone, and Javert had felt for the woman. Her life was turned upside down by forces she could not control. Her child was practically ripped away from her, like her job and her pride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If a person is judged by their actions, Fantine was saintly. She did bad things, but everything she did was done to help her daughter. Could Javert have done anything to help her? Of course not; he was too late in meeting Fantine to make the situation better. If something out of her power had happened differently, Fantine would still be alive. She may even have Cosette with her. No, Fantine did not deserve what happened to her, but now she surely looked down from the heavens and suffered no longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monsieur, I’ll have to ask you to pay now,” the undertaker said, breaking Javert’s train of thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Oh. Yes, here.” Javert pulled some money out of his pocket and found that he had only enough to pay. He finished the transaction, turned around, and walked back to the hospital.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside of the building was a cabriolet. Javert knew it was Madeleine’s, so he rushed inside and found the mayor inside speaking with a nurse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am so sorry, Monsieur,” the nurse soothed, “but Fantine is with us no longer. We awoke yesterday without her. She appeared to be doing better, but...” she trailed off, unsure that what she said helped Valjean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert saw Madeleine close his eyes and sigh. “Thank you, madame.” A small cough came from just beside Madeleine, and Javert finally noticed a small child next to the mayor. She was dressed in black mourning clothes, holding  a doll in one arm and Madeleine’s hand in the other. She said nothing but looked around herself with curiosity or wonder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nurse’s eyes darted down at Cosette, then back to Madeleine. “Your friend, the inspector, informed us that he would take up matters with the undertaker.” She looked back down at Cosette. “Hello, mademoiselle. Let’s get something for that cough, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cosette looked up at Madeleine, and he nodded at her, letting go of her hand. Slowly she walked off with the nurse. ‘Wait, did she just call me the mayor’s friend?” Javert thought to himself. “I am perceived as a person that could have a friend?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of thinking about that, Javert pushed it aside as he often did. Thinking caused a lot of problems. Instead, he walked up to Madeleine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back, Monsieur le Maire. I trust the trip went well?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Javert, it did. The Thenardiers were exactly how I expected them to be, sadly, but I have Cosette now. I just wish I could have gotten her sooner. The poor child.” Valjean sighed, looking into the distance. “I worry still for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How so? She is no longer with the, ah, treacherous innkeepers,” Javert said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can only do so much,” Valjean started. “I am no replacement for a mother, and Cosette is not my child. I am afraid she would disown me as the years pass. I have never cared for a child, either. Perhaps I can speak to some mothers for advice. I do not know what to do. What if I do not care for her enough or in the way she needs to be cared for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert scoffed. “Monsieur, as much as you care for the town, I highly doubt you will not care enough for her. It would be impossible for you to treat her improperly. You have done so much to prove how you can care in many different ways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.” Valjean said, looking away to hide his face.. Silence ensued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have, ah, spoken with the undertaker,” Javert said after a moment. He relayed what was arranged, Madeleine nodding every so often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you very much, Javert.” Madeleine pulled some money out of his pocket, handing Javert a few francs. “Is that enough? I can give you more tomorrow if not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is plenty, mayor.” It was, in fact, a few sous short, but that did not matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has anything happened that I should know about?” Madeleine asked. Javert proceeded to tell what little news there was to tell. Apart from Fantine, nothing exciting happened. Crime stayed the same, and that’s about all that Javert paid attention to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nurse appeared again with Cosette just as Javert finished his report. He watched as Madeleine picked her up and she asked a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will I get to see mama?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am afraid not, my dear,” Valjean answered sadly. Cosette just held on to his coat tighter. Suddenly the inspector felt like he was intruding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will leave you be, Monsieur le Maire,” Javert stated, tipping his hat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madeleine looked over at him with kind eyes. “Thank you again, Inspector. You’ve been a great help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert didn’t know how to respond to what seemed like a compliment, so he only nodded and left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few days went by uneventfully. Javert did his job, passing by the mayor occasionally in the street and speaking to him when a report was needed. He learned that Cosette was living with Madeleine at his house where he and the small house staff watched over her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fantine’s funeral came and went. Valjean was the only real guest; a few townsfolk came for the food. Jean hadn’t brought Cosette, and Javert thought that was a sensible thing. He was on duty at the time, but Javert showed up for a few minutes. He thought would remain without being seen, but Valjean noticed him hovering in the back of the service. He almost felt a sense of pride in seeing the policeman there. One day while giving his report to the mayor, Javert inquired about the little girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is Cosette doing? Are you having any trouble with her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madeleine smiled at the questions. “Cosette is fine! Her cough has improved drastically. She must have eaten less than I thought, even within the short time she’s been here she has gained some weight. I am also teaching her to read and write, I suspect she will be a bright young lady someday.” Valjean was beaming. “Cosette is quite the little angel, no trouble at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert nodded. “That is good. I told you that you would do well for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mayor flushed slightly. “I suppose you did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javert was getting ready to leave when Madeline spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inspector, would you mind coming over tomorrow for dinner? It would be nice to have a guest.” Javert turned back around to face Madeleine, who was still blushing just enough it was noticeable. He pondered the invitation only a moment before answering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would be honoured, Monsieur,” Javert said. He meant it, as surprised as he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally left the mayor’s office. How is it that he had gone from despising Madeleine with every fibre of his body to being a guest at his house, almost as if they really were friends like the nurse had said? Something in the back of his mind whispered that he only accepted the invitation to continue his investigation of the mayor being Jean Valjean, but another whispered back that it wouldn’t matter who Madeline was if it meant Javert could actually have a friend. Javert listened to neither of those whispers. He wished he could stop thinking; it was getting him into some dilemmas that were not fun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went on patrol, but unbeknownst to either Javert or Valjean, a certain rat of a man came into Montreuil-sur-Mer that night with evil intentions.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think I’m abandoning “Can’t Help Falling In Love” but you should know that that is the Valvert Theme Song in my head</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Lowest Depths</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mostly just filler for that last sentence ;))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Night had fallen and the rats slinked out. There was a man who could be French, but given the right circumstance he could transform. At that moment he was. This man found friends quickly in Montreuil-sur-Mer, and they rechristened him as M. Jondrette. False names and false identities work well in a place where one cannot be recognised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few days before arriving, Jondrette had been “positively robbed, I know that man had more, I swear I could have gotten 2,000 francs out of him—“ and that’s precisely what he planned on doing. Jondrette was the kind of man that gets an idea and will not stop acting upon it until the deed is finished. This time, his bright idea was to rob the man in the yellow jacket, whomever that may be. And so Jondrette slinked through the streets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jondrette may not have been native to M-sur-M, but he had connections. In this case, he was reunited with an infamous trio who had so far managed to escape from Inspector Javert's grasp. The group had no name yet, but consisted of three thieves with separate reputations: Édouard, Sebastian, and Margaux de Garnier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Édouard was a fine-dressed, twinkish man who would one day inspire a different thief by the name of Montparnasse. He considered himself a ladies’ man and a master pickpocket. Édouard was very much like a cat- stealthy, moody, and unpredictable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the flip side, Sebastian was a brute. Often drunk, he was always ready for a fight, but he had the patience to crack any type of lock. Sebastian was the strength of the trio, for he and Édouard shared one brain cell, so to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Margaux was a woman and the brains of the group. Each had their own strengths, and Margaux’s was reinforced by her femininity. Nobody expected a fair lady to be a criminal, especially not one with the prefix de in her name, which was, in fact, a false name. In the light, she was seen only as a factory worker, but she ran most of the town’s criminal underworld. If she was ever suspected for anything, Margaux would slip into her finest clothing and slip out of the trouble. Few men could resist her charms, and she could marry any rich man she wished. The truth was that she enjoyed crime, be it petty thievery or murder in the first degree, and settling down seemed too boring.. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them had committed many heists together and separate. Meeting with Jondrette again only boosted their confidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was pure chance that Jondrette knew where to find Madeleine— somebody in the inn had spoken up and said they saw him in Montreuil-sur-Mer. The morning after arriving in town, Jondrette immediately found out who the man in the yellow jacket was. A mayor was bound to be rich, and a reclusive one would be easy to rob. Madeleine may have threatened Jondrette with strength in the woods, but now he had comrades with him, and together nothing could overpower them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jondrette, now knowing who the mayor was, became hell-bent on ruining his life. Over the course of a few days, he learned how Madeleine always gave alms and gifted the poor and cared for the townsfolk and it made Jondrette furious. Why should they receive anything for doing nothing when </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been struggling for so long, working so hard, and was still so far in debt he couldn’t breathe? It was quite unfair, and Jondrette wanted to fix that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the course of a few weeks,  while Madeleine and Javert got to know each other, Jondrette planned. He went back to his home at least twice during this time. He became comfortable with the town, however, and he made quite a sum of money playing as a beggar in the streets or swindling kind-hearted people who could spare a sou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a while to convince the trio to take part in Jondrette’s plan, but eventually they came around. As the days passed he became more and more confident that the robbery of M. Madeleine would be perfect and extremely profitable. It would be a few weeks from Jondrette’s first arrival in Montreuil-sur-Mer until this scheme came into play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reader must now be taken back to the eve of Valjean’s invitation. That night, Valjean had a worry in his mind. He recognised that Javert was still apprehensive of Madeleine’s identity and intentions, but he truly meant no harm to the inspector. Quite the opposite, in fact. Maybe, if he could get Javert to befriend him, there would be no need to hide his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He worried for Cosette. What would happen to her if Javert ever decided Madeleine was Valjean? What would happen to the town and the workers who depended on him? He had no worry for himself, as selfless as he had become over the years. All of those worries were soothed by the reminder of Champmathieu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valjean also thought about what a friendship would be like. He thought it selfish to want one, as he believed he didn’t deserve the happiness it would entail. But if things with Javert continued in the direction they were going, it would be certain that the pair would be more than acquaintances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across town that same night, Javert has similar thoughts in his poor living quarters. Certainly, Madeleine wished to become closer to Javert as a way to “keep your enemies closer.” Yet there was something in the mayor’s startling green eyes that felt like there was more to the story, something that felt sincere. It unsettled Javert; he was not used to someone feeling as if they could care for him. So, Javert thought he was being ridiculous. The little shine of </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a trick to bring down Javert’s guard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both men slept with abstract dreams of friendship and deceit that night, all forgotten by the morning. Valjean awoke with a hope of a better life and a little fear of what could happen, while Javert awoke with the fear of being fooled and a buried hope of finally finding someone who won’t hate him. Both prepared for the day in the same way, thinking of each other in similar manners but different intentions. Two men, both alike in dignity, mirroring each other without knowing. Javert, conflicted between his duty to the law and his human desire of not being lonely. Conflicted between his instinct to hunt the wretched of the earth and his developing morals, realising the duality of man. Valjean, trapped between the mistakes of his past and his hope for a better future. Hoping to change a man of the law into a man who can care. Afraid of the unknown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day went by uneventfully for both Valjean and Javert, but slowly. At around eight, Javert appeared at Valjean’s door, with knots in his stomach that he ignored.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah, I know, making up characters isn’t a good thing to do, but I don’t care. Don’t dwell on them too much</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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